


Like Name, Like Namesake

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Purimgifts 2015 [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen, Hanukkah, Jewish Character, Purim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:03:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>El has her suspicions about who could have sent the gifts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Name, Like Namesake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lirin/gifts).



“Maaaa!” 

“Yes, Neal, it’s finally the third night,” El says, picking up the package with the ‘#3’ on it and walking towards Neal. The first package had been a strange book and doll combination called _Mensch on a Bench_ , and the second night had been a stuffed menorah and a stuffed dreidel, which means El wonders if there’s going to be stuffed gelt in this one. “Do you want Daddy to help you open it?” 

“Maaa! Maaa!” Neal shrieks excitedly as Peter takes the package from El and sits down next to Neal, near the small Christmas tree by the window also housing the menorah. Peter holds the box while Neal rips frantically at the paper. 

“Are those board books?” El asks when she sees what looks like a box set of small books.

Peter picks up the box set and starts laughing. “Whoever sent this must have gotten their Neals mixed up. It’s a _Mini Masters_ set. Board books about artists. There’s Monet, Degas, Matisse, and Van Gogh.”

“Hon, you are the head of the New York office of the White Collar division,” El says as she smiles at Peter and Neal. “Maybe someone’s trying to help Neal follow in your footsteps.” El has her suspicions about who could have sent the gifts, but very few people know that El is Jewish, since she hasn’t been to temple since her bat mitzvah. 

“Maybe,” Peter says.

“I’m hoping that we get some gelt we can steal before the end of these,” El says. “I could use some chocolate.” 

By the eighth night, however, no chocolate gelt has been unwrapped, and the final package doesn’t look like it’s the correct size for chocolate, either. When Mozzie rings the doorbell, El opens it with a smile. “Did you bring gelt?” 

“I brought wine,” Mozzie says, holding up a padded totebag that promises more than just one bottle. “I also brought chocolate torte from the bakery around the corner.”

“And which corner is that, Moz?” Peter asks.

“Well, there’s bakeries around most corners in this city,” Mozzie says. 

“Pick out a wine that will go with the brisket?” El says as she closes the door behind Mozzie. “And thank you for the chocolate. Neal can open his last package, and we can eat torte.” 

“Package?” Mozzie asks. 

“Oh, someone’s sent Neal a package for each night of Hanukkah,” El explains. “Some of them were very thoughtful.” 

“If I’d had a little _warning_ that you were celebrating Hanukkah, I could’ve planned ahead and come up with something for Baby Neal,” Mozzie complains. “I didn’t even realize you were Jewish until you invited me to dinner tonight.”

“I haven’t been to temple in twenty-five years, but I wanted Neal to know about that side of the family,” El says. “We didn’t have a bris and I doubt he’ll have a bar mitzvah, but it’s nice to keep some cultural traditions alive. I used my grandmother’s brisket recipe tonight.” 

“I’m looking forward to trying Granny Mrs. Suit’s recipe, then,” Mozzie says. 

After dinner, they sit down with chocolate torte, and El hands Neal the last package. “Yours,” she tells him. 

“Maaaa!” Neal crows with delight as he begins shredding the paper, revealing what looks like a Halloween costume. “Maa?”

“A costume?” Peter asks. “What kind of costume is that?”

“There’s a note on it,” El says. “It says ‘for Purim’.” She picks up the costume and shakes it out, holding it up for Peter and Mozzie to inspect, which also lets her hide her smile at the tiny black-and-white prisoner jumpsuit. 

“That’s great,” Peter says, frowning slightly. 

“Very apropos,” Mozzie says. “Like name, like namesake.”

“I think we can all agree we’re hoping for a different path for _our_ Neal,” Peter says.

El laughs. “I’m pretty sure costumes aren’t predictive, hon, or you would be roping cattle in Wyoming right now.”


End file.
